Written by: Sam Magee
The beauty of the race. 
An anomaly so great, that even the most wise of minds 
may never come to understand its true significance. 
For it was not the rapidness of the start, 
a move of mind play in the middle stages, 
nor a powerful pump across the finish. 
It was the journey along the way. 
Perhaps filled with the courage to begin, 
the sudden realization of being opposed with hardship, 
that which was greater than the strongest of men, 
followed by a moment of resilience. 
Seconds, perhaps minutes. Nay, hours - days - nights - weeks - months - years.  Then, it was no longer the ending that the athlete sought… 
but for validation in the journey, 
one that had brought them so far.  
Indeed, it was no longer the ending, 
it was something greater than the euphoria of victory itself, 
a decision to never relent in the darkest of hours. 
The beauty of the race, therefore, 
was not in the race itself, but in a tool with more power 
than the Earth can harness. 
The human heart.